


a charmed life (could be so much more)

by nautilics



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, Kiki's Delivery Service AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:09:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5481071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nautilics/pseuds/nautilics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>All witches, when they’ve learned all they can and are ready to make their own mark on the world, take a broom, some belongings, and leave to find a new home to practise what they’ve learnt. Some witches set up a potions store, while others take up herbalism for their neighbours. These days, it’s less of a mandatory rite-of-passage than it used to be, but Hitoka’s family still placed value in these traditions, and so here she is.<br/></p>
</blockquote><br/>Fledgling witch Yachi takes flight to seek her place in the world, and crashes into a tree. It goes up from there.
            </blockquote>





	a charmed life (could be so much more)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lavendere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendere/gifts).



> this is written for b1uberry for the Haikyuu!! Winter Holidays Exchange 2015 - happy holidays, and I hope you enjoy this little piece! 
> 
> this is, of course, inspired by studio ghibli's kiki's delivery service, an inspiration which I then took and ran wildly away with. no prior knowledge of the movie is needed to read this though!

Hitoka’s always worried about what she’d do in a life or death situation. If she ever encountered a witch-chomping monster, or accidentally brewed an explosive potion while trying to make dinner, or fell off her broom while flying over a mountain, how would she react? Would she panic and make things worse? Or would a miraculously calm and logical part of her brain switch on and take control?

The answer, it seems, is both.

Right now, Hitoka is tangled upside down in a tree. Her bag has fallen to the ground below with a loud thump that hopefully didn’t break anything. Her broomstick is trapped among the canopy; her legs and arms ache from gripping onto the branch and the blood is starting to rush to her head.

The sudden windstorm that had whipped her out of the air seems to have subsided at least. She’d been flying over the trees when the wind had picked up and started buffeting her around. Instead of keeping calm and weathering it out, or flying higher to avoid it, Hitoka had swerved downwards and completely lost control when another gust smacked into her and threw her off her broom.

The sensible part of her brain had kicked in long enough for her to latch onto a branch instead of falling to her doom, but it'd disappeared shortly after that. Now, Hitoka doesn’t have either the space to swing the right side up and take stock of her surroundings, nor the ability to get down safely.

The sunlight through the leaves is very pretty though, she thinks. There’s absolutely no sign of the storm that had passed not twenty minutes ago. Her arms are getting tired though.

Maybe, she thinks, a bird will see her and take pity on her. And it’ll go tell its bird family, and they’ll rescue her in a dramatic fluttering of wings, and she’ll spend the rest of her life indebted to the birds of this forest.

Or (if she's really lucky), a familiar will fly by and see a useless fledgling witch stuck in the tree, not even able to cast a spell to get herself down safely, and it'll go back and alert its witch to come down and save her.

It’ll be mortifying, though, and the witch will probably tell all of their friends and she’ll never be able to show her face in public again, so Hitoka’s not too sure it’ll be worth the embarrassment. She would probably rather live off tree sap and chewing on leaves for the rest of her life than deal with that.

A rustling sound breaks her train of thought, and she looks up (down?) to lay eyes on the prettiest woman she’s ever seen in her life, emerging from the bushes and staring at her in surprise. Her black hair is pulled to the side in a loose ponytail, and she’s wearing a white t-shirt with a set of dirt-stained overalls.

(The dirt, Hitoka thinks, really brings out her eyes. Even in the rugged farmer clothes, she looks ten times more elegant than any of the girls in Hitoka's village.)

Hitoka stares right back at Farmer Lady, but only because there’s a stray strand of hair curling against her cheek, brushing against a small mole by her mouth, and her knees are feeling weak for an altogether different reason.

She realises Farmer Lady’s mouth is moving and jolts to attention. “I’m fine!” she yells.

Farmer Lady pauses, tucks the loose hair behind her ear (Hitoka mourns a little), and laughs quietly. All of a sudden, Hitoka would gladly be the laughing stock of the entire witch community and more, if she could only get out of this tree and hear that laugh again.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you. It’s just - you don’t look fine,” Farmer Lady says, a small smile on her face. “Let me help you.”

Hitoka flushes, a creeping sense of horror crawling up her spine when it strikes her that she’s in such an undignified position in the presence of such a beautiful woman. “No I’m fine, really,” she says quickly. “I can get out by myself! Please don’t trouble yourself!” She waves her hands to show how fine she is.

The woman opens her mouth to say something more, but it’s at that moment that Hitoka’s legs give up and, without her arms to lock her in place, she drops from the tree with a yelp.

By some miracle, she doesn’t land on her head. Well, not directly anyway. She looks up at the sound of footsteps and sees Farmer Lady crouching beside her, a worried look pinching her eyes. Hitoka smiles and gives a weak thumbs up. “All fine!”

“Did you hit your head?” Hitoka starts to shake her head, pausing when her vision swims a little. “Slow down. You seem a little dizzy.” Farmer Lady helps her sit up, her hands cool against Hitoka’s. “Do you want me to take you to the doctor’s? We’re not too far from town.”

“I’ll be fine,” Hitoka manages to say. “After a moment. I landed more on my side.”

“This may be an odd question,” says Farmer Lady, “but you’re a witch, aren’t you?”

Hitoka whips her head up so quickly that her ears start to buzz. “I am! How did you know?” Was Farmer Lady a witch too? Did she come here just to scold Hitoka for infringing on her territory and then kick her right back out?

“Well,” Farmer Witch starts, then closes her mouth and simply looks to the side. Hitoka turns as well to see her broom, twigs and leaves sticking out everywhere in the straw but otherwise in one piece. It must have been dislodged when she fell out.

Farmer Witch stands up and retrieves her broom, picking out a few of the larger twigs before crouching down to hand it over. Hitoka clutches it tightly, and allows herself to breathe out a sigh of relief. The broom was a gift from her mother - at least something was going right today. “Thank you so much, um -”

“Shimizu Kiyoko,” says Farmer Witch.

“Thank you Shimizu-san! My name is Yachi Hitoka!” Even though she’s still on the ground, Hitoka ducks forward into a bow. “Thank you for your help! I don’t know how long I would have been stuck in that tree for if you hadn’t come by.”

“I didn’t, um, I don’t think I actually did anything,” Shimizu says, looking surprised. “But I’m glad you’re not in the tree anymore.”

“Me too,” she says with feeling. “I don’t think I could eat leaves for very long.”

“Leaves?”

“Or tree sap. Or bugs, I guess?” Hitoka blanches. “I... I don’t want to eat bugs!”

Shimizu laughs. “I don’t think you have to eat anything of the sort,” she says, gripping Hitoka’s arm and helping her to her feet.

Hitoka feels a little better once she’s standing. She stretches and feels the ache on her right side, which had taken the brunt of the impact, but she’s in one piece. Hitoka just has to make it to town and find her mother’s friend, and day one of her journey would be a relative success. Speaking of which.

“Are you the local witch, Shimizu-san?”

“Me?” Shimizu looks surprised again. “I’m not a witch at all.”

“Oh! Thank goodness!” says Hitoka. “Er, not that you wouldn’t be a good witch! I’m sure you’d be excellent at making potions!” But it does mean that Hitoka hasn’t accidentally blundered into another witch’s territory. As far as she knows. “Do you know how I can get into town from here? I’m looking for the Tanaka Bakery.”

Shimizu looks amused. “I’m on the way into town myself, and I know the place. I’ll show you the way,” she says. She starts walking, and Hitoka grabs her broom and her bag, and follows her, relieved.

\---

Their walk to the Tanaka Bakery takes almost three quarters of an hour. As they venture further into the heart of the city, the afternoon sun sinking lower in the sky, Hitoka is increasingly awed by the sheer bustle and busyness around her. Streetcars trundle past on the cobblestone streets, and people who all look like they’re hurrying somewhere push past Hitoka. They walk past tall, narrow houses cramped together - Hitoka counts three floors of windows on average, with more windows crawling for space where the roof narrows to a peak.

The Tanaka Bakery is situated in one such building. Tables and chairs dot the cobblestones outside the shop, where some people are sipping coffee and nibbling pastries. A bell chimes above the door when they enter and the boy behind the counter - who has a shock of bright orange hair - calls out an enthusiastic welcome and greeting to Shimizu.

Shimizu says hello to the boy, who looks at her with a somewhat awed expression. That awe transforms into bright eyed excitement and curiosity when he shifts his attention to Hitoka, and he almost leaps over the counter in his eagerness to greet her. "Hello! I'm Hinata Shouyou! Why do you have a broom? You've got leaves all over your hair. Are you Shimizu-san's friend?" The words tumble out at an alarming rate.

"My name is Yachi! Yachi Hitoka," she manages, clutching her broom closer to her chest. Her discomfort must be obvious, because Shimizu glances at her and is about to step in when another voice cuts across.

"Shouyou." There's another boy behind the counter, crouched on a low stool. Hitoka had missed him at first glance. His oddly coloured hair is only slightly visible above the bench. "That's Saeko's witch guest. She told us last week." He peeks over the counter and nods at the two of them.

Hinata's head whips back around with such speed that Hitoka thinks it's going to fall off. "Uwoahh! You're a witch! I've never met one before, this is so cool!" He looks like he might actually vault over the counter, and Hitoka takes a step back, steeling herself.

Behind them, the door bell jingles. "Shouyou, Kenma, why isn't anyone cleaning up the tables outside?" calls out a familiar voice. Hitoka turns to see Tanaka Saeko, carrying a sack of flour under her arm. When Saeko's eyes find her, she drops the sack. "Yacchan! You finally made it!" Hitoka winces at the loud _thump!_ it makes.

"It's good to - oof!" Saeko sweeps her into a hug, lifting her into the air with almost no effort. Hitoka is glad when the ground is beneath her feet again. "It's good to see you, Saeko-san! I'm sorry I'm late, I got a little - lost -"

"I found Yachi-san in a tree, but she's okay," Shimizu adds.

Saeko laughs uproariously as Hitoka's shoulders creep up. "That's our Yacchan! Thanks for helping her out, Shimizu. Have a cake - no, it's on the house. I'll show Yacchan her room, and then she can properly meet the lot of you."

Shimizu waves at her as Saeko leads her up the stairs in the corner of the shop. The steps creak underneath, and Saeko's voice filters down as they climb. "The room isn't the best, but it's not too bad. There's a stove if you want to cook your own meals, as long as you open the window so it doesn't stink up the place. It's the attic so there might be some mice around, so don't leave any food out unless you want it all to be eaten. Also, watch out for bugs." 

They've gone up at least two floors now, judging by the number of landings Hitoka has counted. "I put some spare sheets on the bed for you, but I didn't have time to dust the room or anything, sorry." They finally reach the top floor and Saeko fishes out a key to unlock the old door. It creaks open and Hitoka follows her inside, looking around at her new home.

Saeko was right - the room isn't much, but there's a bed with fresh sheets folded neatly on it, a table and chair, and an ancient but sturdy looking stove in the corner. The table lists to the side when Hitoka sets her bag down. She rests the broom against the bed.

Saeko hovers near the door, concern marring her brow. "Sorry again. This is the only room free, but if any of the tenants move out -"

"No it's fine!" Hitoka says quickly. "Thank you so much for your hospitality! I can clean the dust and fix the table and the bed is really soft!" To prove her point, she drops onto the mattress and mostly manages to hide her wince at how little it gives. Saeko's face says that she didn't hide it well enough. "Really though. I'm grateful to have a place to stay."

Saeko's face softens and she approaches the bed to give her a quick hug and ruffle her hair. "You've grown so much, Yacchan. I bet your mother is so proud." Hitoka smiles and rubs her head, though she isn't too sure how proud her mother will be when she hears about her only daughter's dramatic first day away from home.

Saeko ruffles her hair one last time before heading for the door. "I'll let you settle in. Come down once you're ready and you can meet the rest of the crew." Hitoka nods and the door shuts behind her.

The room feels a lot emptier without Saeko to fill up the spaces. Hitoka tests the mattress a little, attempting a bounce, before giving up entirely and simply flopping backwards to stare at the exposed rafters of the ceiling. So this is her new home. She thinks wistfully about her soft, plump bed in her cozy room back home, filled with her favourite toys, and the wide window where she used to curl up with her favourite books.

A scrabbling sound shakes her out of her thoughts, and she sits up. Hitoka's an adult now, even if she doesn't always feel like one, and there's no room for her nostalgia. First, there's the pest problem to deal with.

Mice were quite common back home, so Hitoka is used to the sight of their tiny paws and beady eyes. Some of them were kind of cute. Bugs are a whole other issue though, she thinks with a shudder. She also doesn't want to wake up to find teeth marks everywhere. Hitoka fetches her bag and pulls out a small wooden chest that unfolds into three layers of compartments storing her supplies. She picks out a sprig of artemisia, a few dried chrysanthemum petals, and an oregano leaf for good measure - all plants that would ward off any bugs or mice in the room. The chrysanthemum gets crushed and sprinkled over the artemisia and oregano inside a small hessian bag, with a few drops of myrrh for extra potency. Hitoka ties the bag closed with a loop of twine, fixing the image in her mind of a bubble encasing the room, keeping out unwanted scuttling visitors. This charm is one that she's made a thousand times before, under the careful instruction of her mother.

The material of the bag warms slightly under her touch as she pulls the string tight, and she sits back, satisfied. She carefully closes her box and finds a nook above the doorframe to tuck the bag into. Somehow, the room seems less foreign with it there, and she gives it a last once over and heads downstairs.

\---

Hitoka runs into Shimizu again at the market a few days later. This time, she’s carrying a bagful of fruit for Saeko when she spots that distinct black hair at the vegetable trader. She approaches the stall and taps Shimizu on the shoulder, hoping that she still remembers her.

Recognition flits across Shimizu’s face before she smiles. “Yachi-san, hello!”

Hitoka can’t help but grin. “Hi!”

“How’s your head? And your broom.”

“They’re both fine! Thanks to you.” Hitoka opens her mouth to continue when the trader at the stall clears her throat. “Oh I’m sorry, I won’t keep you-”

“It’s fine, this is my last purchase,” says Shimizu. “If you’re not in a hurry, why don’t we have a drink? I know a place.”

Hitoka can’t believe her luck. “I would love to!”

After Shimizu pays for her vegetables, she leads them to a coffee shop down the road and orders them both drinks.

The coffee shop is full of murmured conversations and the clinking of teacups. Shimizu leads them to a table tucked away in the back; it’s the only free table left and it’s barely even midday. “There’s a lot more people than I’m used to,” says Hitoka when they’re both seated with their drinks.

Shimizu leans forwards. “Was your hometown much smaller than this?”

“It wasn’t tiny, but, yes. There are more people in here than I’d run into in one day back home,” says Hitoka.

“Were there many other witches like you, Yachi-san?”

She shakes her head. “Just my mum. She tells me that witches respect the boundaries of other witches, so you don’t usually find two witches in the same place. In a city like this, it’s a bit different since it’s bigger. Um,” Hitoka bites her lip. “Do you - do you know if there’s another witch in town?”

“I’ve never heard of one,” Shimizu says thoughtfully. “I’ve lived here all my life. I would have liked to meet them, if they existed.”

Hitoka lets out a sigh of relief. She’d heard the same from Saeko, who was once a client of her mother’s and wrote when she heard Hitoka was setting out on her own, but it’s nice to hear it confirmed by another long-time local.

All witches, when they’ve learned all they can and are ready to make their own mark on the world, take a broom, some belongings, and leave to find a new home to practise what they’ve learnt. Some witches set up a potions store, while others take up herbalism for their neighbours. These days, it’s less of a mandatory rite-of-passage than it used to be, but Hitoka’s family still placed value in these traditions, and so here she is.

Privately, Hitoka feels less than ready to be embarking on an adventure like this, despite her mother’s certainty. It was for that reason that she’d quickly accepted Saeko’s offer to stay with her, even though witches traditionally didn’t make any such prior arrangements when striking out. Hitoka doesn’t think she could do anything so daring. Though she’d felt that rush of exhilaration when she took to the sky, with nothing but the horizon and her limitless future ahead of her, the feeling had quickly faded into a dull apprehension.

She doesn’t tell Shimizu this, of course, but it’s a feeling that eats at her constantly, the constant pressure of _what next_? What can you do that other, greater, people can’t do better?

Shimizu is rapt throughout Hitoka’s story. She seems almost disappointed when Hitoka turns the conversation to other topics.

Hitoka learns that Shimizu has not only lived here all her life, but also manages a flower shop with her parents. “We grow our own flowers. My parents prefer to manage the fields, so I take care of the shop,” she says with a twist in her mouth that Hitoka doesn’t know what to make of. It’s gone in an instant when she flashes a small grin. “In fact, the fields aren’t too far from where you landed. I was on my way back from helping out that day when we ah, met.”

Hitoka buries her face in her hands. “‘Met’ is such a nice way of putting it,” she whines. Shimizu laughs and she feels her lifespan shorten by another few years.

Talking about their first meeting reminds her why she’d been hoping to run into Shimizu in the first place. She reaches into her pocket and runs a finger over the hessian pouch inside, hesitating for a second before pulling it out.

“I wanted to - I’m sorry it’s so rough, but this is for you. Thank you for the other day!” Hitoka thrusts the pouch forward. It’s one of her own pouches, finished with a nice bow that had, formerly, been one of Hitoka’s hair ribbons. She had turned to using it in desperation while fretting over how dull it looked wrapped with twine.

Shimizu takes it, pulling the bow loose gently and tipping the pouch out into her hands. Hitoka holds her breath as the necklace that she’d made spills out. The ink-black feather and coloured beads gleam in the light as Shimizu holds it up, swinging lightly on the twine cord. “Yachi-san, this is lovely,” she breathes, eyes alight.

“Please call me Hitoka,” says Hitoka, words tumbling out in a rush.

A small smile spreads on Shimizu’s face. “In that case, please call me Kiyoko. Hitoka-chan, did you make this? It’s wonderful.”

Hitoka nods, blush creeping higher. “It’s something I like to do, just as a hobby. I mean, it’s not as good as a professional one, sorry, but it’s meant to avoid chaos. A little bit of luck.” She reaches forward and drops another bead into her palm, this one clear and the size of a marble, filled with a mixture of ground plants. “This will help repel pests from your flowers too, if you bury it at the easternmost side of the field. I thought - from your clothes the other day - you were some sort of farmer, so I thought this might be useful.”

She rubs the back of her head, shying a little at Shi- at Kiyoko’s intent gaze on her. “I didn’t have any flax to bind the necklace, so the spell won’t last for all that long, but I wanted to give you something to say thanks. I can make a better one once I find some more materials. And the pest-repellent will only be potent for about three months, so I’ll make a new one after that!” A thought occurs to her. Kiyoko didn’t grow up surrounded by the craft like Hitoka did. What if she just insulted Kiyoko by implying that whatever methods they used on the flower farm were inadequate? Is she being weird - or rude? - by assuming that Kiyoko wants her magic at all? She hastens to add, “But only if you want! You don’t have to use them at all, actually, I mean, please don’t feel obligated to just because I gave them to you.” She sort of wishes the floor beneath her would open up and swallow her whole.

Before she can do anything drastic like snatch the necklace back, Kiyoko, to her surprise, places the bead carefully on the table and brushes her hair to the side, fastening the necklace so that the feather and beads rest between her collarbones. “Thank you so much Hitoka-chan. This is so thoughtful of you,” she says. “I’ll wear it every day.”

Hitoka takes a sip of her hot chocolate to hide her blush.

Kiyoko toys with the bead, spinning it so that the powder shifts inside the glass. “Is this your witch talent, Hitoka-chan? Making charms?”

“Well, um, not really? It’s not all that special and pretty much every witch can make these.” Hitoka looks down at her hands. “I’m not all that great at it. I mix up the components a lot, and I can only make charms for small things, like luck for an exam, or making a candle last longer, or, keeping bugs away. Compared to others, it’s not very much at all.” Her mother, she thinks, could have made Kiyoko’s necklace without even blinking, and with a protection spell on it instead of the meagre anti-chaos one Hitoka had managed. Her charm looks like something her mother would have made when she was five.

“I think it’s incredible,” says Kiyoko. “Do you have something else in mind for your business then?”

“Not exactly…” Hitoka chews on her lip. “Someone like me doesn’t really have any special talents. So I’m not really too sure yet.”

“This necklace is lovely,” Kiyoko says. “And I can think of a lot of people who’d love to have a pest-repellent like this. This might be weird,” she pauses, her cheeks turning pink, “but I have a feeling you can succeed in whatever you put your mind to.”

Hitoka takes another sip of her drink, heart fluttering lightly. Kiyoko’s faith in her is - is nice, and it’s touching. She’d actually considered the idea over the past few days, as she weaved together more trinkets to scatter around her room and make it more comfortable. At the same time, she can’t help but feel a little embarrassed; her charms are rough and homely, amateur in their simplicity, and they hardly feel like something she could take money for, if anyone was even interested. Especially compared to her mother’s elegant creations, which imbue the spells into finely-spun glass ornaments that scream refinement. And there was that visiting witch who peddled similar pendants for a living, and they’d thrummed with so much power that she could barely take her eyes off them, and she remembers being so awed by their skill, their dedication -

Hitoka’s only dabbling. She’s not like the people who put their all into their craft, channelling their boundless passion into the things they create.

She shakes her head and forces a smile. “It’s a hobby, that’s all. I’m actually working with Saeko-san in her bakery with Hinata and Kenma. You know, they seem like complete opposites but they’re actually really close.”

Kiyoko purses her lips, confusion - or is it disappointment? Hitoka, struck with sudden paranoia, can’t tell - flickering across her face, but seems to accept the change in topic. “I’ll be sure to visit you more often then.”

The atmosphere suddenly feels too awkward with the knowledge that she’s failed to meet Kiyoko’s expectations somehow. Perhaps Hitoka shouldn’t be so surprised. She quickly finishes the rest of her drink and stands up. “Oh! It’s getting late - I have to go. Saeko-san is waiting for me. Thank you so much for the drink, and for the other day, of course,” she’s babbling again as she gathers up her bag. “I’ll see you around, Kiyoko-san!”

She hears Kiyoko’s quiet goodbye as she hurries out the door.

\---

A few weeks later, during a lull in customers, Saeko calls Hitoka into the kitchen, a curious tone in her voice. Kenma is nominally manning the counter, so Hitoka wipes her hands on her apron and goes to see what Saeko wants.

She finds Saeko kneading a lump of dough with practiced movements while she stares at something on the shelf in front of her. Hitoka follows her gaze and realises with start that it’s one of her charms, a delicate knot of green thread intertwined with a sprig of sage. She’d tucked it behind the containers of flour on the shelf to keep it out of sight, but the shifting boxes must have brought it into view.

“So you made them, didn’t you, Yacchan?” Saeko asks, still pounding the dough. Hitoka gulps and nods. It’s hard to tell if Saeko is displeased or - wait, ‘them’?

“You um. You saw the others then?”

With a toothy grin, Saeko tosses the dough into the air and lets it slam back down on the counter. “Of course I did! You think I wouldn’t notice that my flour’s stopped getting weevils, the door’s stopped creaking so loudly, and the oven stays hot for so long even when we forget to put in more wood?” She pauses, a finger on her chin. “Actually, Kenma found your magic thingies first, and _then_ I started paying attention, but still!”

“I-I’m sorry for putting them up without asking, I’ll take them down -”

“Are you kidding me?” Saeko almost shouts, and slaps her on the back with a flour-covered hand. Hitoka wheezes. “They’re amazing! Ryuu’s finally stopped whinging about that door whenever he visits, and it’s a damn joy not having to throw out a sack of flour because there’s something moving inside. Yacchan, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to seem rude or presumptuous.” Hitoka’s hands worry at the material of her apron. “They were just small things, so I thought I’d patch them up without bothering anyone and hopefully help you out a bit, especially since you’ve done so much for me.”

Saeko claps her hands on Hitoka’s shoulders and looks her in the eyes. “Hitoka, are there more?”

Hitoka nods.

“Show me,” Saeko orders.

Hitoka walks her around the kitchen, then the shopfront and even the seating area outside, digging out the various charms she’d squirrelled away to show Saeko. Charms for clean air, longer shelf life, non-wobbly tables, mold-prevention - Hitoka had come up with a lot in her time here, playing with different combinations of flowers, strings and materials to best suit the everyday problems she’d noticed. Saeko is vocally impressed at each and every one, and even Kenma perks up to listen when they’re in the shop. She even shows Saeko her room, which is now dust-free and pleasantly bright during the day, and has strings criss-crossing the room with dozens of her charms and charms-in-progress strung up. Saeko takes it all in with an appraising eye.

“Hitoka, I’m being completely serious here - I will pay you for the charms you’ve made for me.” Hitoka begins to protest but she gets shushed. “And I’m not the only one! I can think of a lot of people who would pay you for things like these, and I will give every single one of them the same tour you just gave me to hook them on your charms!”

“But pretty much anyone can make them - ”

Saeko levels her with a sharp look. “Yacchan, if just anyone could make them, I wouldn’t be scooping weevils out of my flour every other week. If Hinata asks, I throw the whole sack out, but honestly I can’t afford to waste all that good flour and it doesn’t harm you anyway. The point is - maybe these are normal for you because of your mum, but, this is seriously incredible to me. If I’d known you could make these, I would have started buying them off you years ago.”

Part of Hitoka wants to protest more, but most of her is overwhelmed by the praise. A tiny flicker of hope arises in her chest - maybe it was actually possible, maybe she could manage -

Saeko claps her on the shoulder again. “Think about it! And just give me the word, and you’ll have everyone in town lining up outside the door in no time.”

“After dinner tonight,” Saeko adds as she starts clomping down the stairs, “we’re going to sit down and work out what I owe you too. And I’m not letting you get out of that one!”

\---

"So Saeko is helping you find some clients?"

"Well, I haven't actually told her yes yet..."

"Still, that's great. I knew you could do it, Hitoka-chan." Kiyoko puts down her teacup with a gentle clink, a small smile directed at her. "I'll pass the word to some of my friends too."

The piece of croissant in Hitoka's hands slips and crumbles on to her plate. She picks at it, pulling apart the soft layers. It still feels a little unreal that people would even be interested in giving her money for her hobby. She half expects Saeko to pop up at any moment, clap her on the back, and tell her that it was all a joke and she'd have to go back home tomorrow, pack her bags and fly back to her mother's disappointment.

Kiyoko glances at her over her glasses. "Are you still scared?" she asks, and of course Kiyoko would cut right to the heart of the matter. Hitoka ducks her head, nods. "That's fine."

"What?"

"It's fine to be scared. I was scared too, when I - ” Kiyoko cuts off, and Hitoka blinks, curious. “Anyway, it's okay to not know whether you'll succeed or whether you'll fail." She stares out the window as she says this, a distant look in her eyes. She's fiddling with something around her neck, and Hitoka gets distracted when she realises that it's the necklace she gave her, the feather a little dull but still prim.

"You're still wearing it," she says with wonder.

Kiyoko looks back at her and her hand flies back to her lap. Her eyes dart away again, as if she's unable to meet Hitoka's eyes. "Yeah."

Hitoka frowns. "The spell's worn off by now. It doesn't do anything at all anymore." Kiyoko probably didn't know that though. She hadn't exactly left clear instructions in the pouch.

"It's...well, I like wearing it," Kiyoko says in a voice so quiet that Hitoka barely catches it. With visible effort, she draws her back straight and looks Hitoka in the eye again. "Anyway, Hitoka-chan, you don't need to know everything when you start out. You don't need to have one hundred percent conviction or the perfect plan - even just a little bit of determination, a little bit of curiosity; that's all you need." Kiyoko’s words start off hesitant, as if she’s testing the sound of them out, but they grow in confidence as she speaks. Hitoka is rapt, her croissant forgotten.

Kiyoko brushes some hair behind her ear. "As you go on, you'll learn more about your work and yourself. And then - and only then - is when you can know for sure whether this is the right path for you." Her lips curl up in a gentle curve, tugging up the small mole by her mouth. "And whatever you choose then, well. You'll be able to make that decision with no regrets."

\---

The next day, Hitoka hands Saeko a small poster and asks if she could put it up in the corner of the shop window.

Saeko cheers so loudly that Hinata comes to see what’s happening and almost knocks over a tray of fresh baguettes when he jumps and pumps his fists, and Kenma dives under the counter to escape the loaves (but not before he offers her a small thumbs up).

By the end of the day, a much larger version of the poster adorns the window, proudly advertising charms for sale from the town’s new, resident witch.

\---

The first few days are quiet, with only some curious inquiries from the bakery's regulars. Saeko promises her that she's spreading the word to her friends in town though, so Hitoka pushes down the nerves and smiles brightly whenever anyone asks.

It's not long after that before she starts to get orders. The first is from a tall and fidgety boy named Yamaguchi, who looks flustered the whole time they talk, and he requests something to help with shaky hands. It only takes Hitoka one afternoon to weave a bracelet for him and when he returns to pick it up, he thanks her profusely, leaving both payment and a bag of cookies. Hitoka is giddy at the success with her first customer.

After that, the orders start trickling in in larger and larger quantities. It becomes more common for customers to buy their bread from Hinata and then approach Hitoka's side of the counter and place an order for a charm. Hitoka writes each order down carefully in a book, and asks them to return the day afterward.

It soon becomes clear that this system, while manageable when there were much fewer people interested, isn't sustainable at all for larger amounts. Hitoka opens the book at the end of one day and realises she'd promised twelve charms to be completed by the next morning, and she was running low on supplies.

The next morning, Hitoka is almost falling asleep on her book and her eyes are dark and smudged, but she is able to greet each of her customers with her signature pouch-and-ribbon. Her head feels heavy by the time she waves out the last of the charm orders, and she takes a moment to flop across the counter with a sigh. At least she no longer has to deal with the morning rush of bakery customers - Saeko had firmly told her to focus on her own business, and leave the sales to Hinata and Kenma.

The door chimes, but Hitoka ignores it in favour of burying her head further into her arms. She hears Kenma quietly greeting the customer before the footsteps approach her, coming to a stop in front of her. She should probably lift her head, but she's so tired.

"Hitoka-chan?"

She sits up immediately, hair in disarray. "Kiyoko-san! Good morning!"

Kiyoko frowns, her eyebrows furrowing as she takes in Hitoka. "Are you alright? You look like you haven't slept at all."

"I haven't, actually. I had to - " Hitoka is interrupted by a wide yawn. "Sorry - I had to stay up all night to finish a bunch of charms. I feel like my eyes might drop out of my head."

Kiyoko looks alarmed. "Drop out of your head?!"

"It's fine!" Hitoka flashes her a grin, but Kiyoko's expression says it's probably more wobbly than she intended. "If there aren't too many people today, I'll probably be able to sleep at least a few hours."

Kiyoko purses her lips. She looks like she's thinking about something, curling a hand under her chin while staring at a point on the counter. Her fingers are lithe but look like they have seen their fair share of labour, which makes sense, since Kiyoko works on her parents' flower farm so often. The skin still looks so soft though. Hitoka wonders if she uses a special lotion to keep them so smooth; maybe she could give her some tips, because her own fingers are quickly going dry from all her crafts.

She's been staring for far too long. Hitoka jerks her eyes away but Kiyoko hasn't seemed to notice. Finally, Kiyoko turns to face her. "Hitoka-chan, have you taken any orders today yet?" She shakes her head. "Great. Can you take a break tomorrow? Tell your customers it'll take a few days for their charms, and take the afternoon off too. You need a break." Kiyoko pauses. "I have an idea, if that's okay? Come by my shop tomorrow in the morning."

"But I - "

"I'm worried you'll burn yourself out," Kiyoko says. "Please?"

Hitoka can barely keep her eyes open, so Kiyoko has a point. Hitoka nods and Kiyoko smiles, a quick relieved little thing. "Great. Please take care of yourself. I'll see you tomorrow - wear some old clothes."

\---

The next morning at dawn finds Hitoka at the door of Kiyoko's flower shop, yawning, dressed in a t-shirt and old pair of pants that Saeko lent her. When Kiyoko comes out, wearing the overalls Hitoka had first seen her in, a floppy oversized sunhat and a large basket in hand, she looks pleased to see her.

Hitoka straightens up immediately. “Good morning, Kiyoko-san!”

“Good morning. I'm glad you made it.” Kiyoko smiles widely, and it strikes Hitoka that she's never seen Kiyoko so at ease. “You’ll need a little more than that though - no, it’s okay, I’ve got just the thing.” She hands the basket to Hitoka and disappears inside, reappearing shortly after with a pair of large, thick gloves and a second sunhat. This one is just as wide-brimmed as Kiyoko’s, with a faded light blue ribbon wrapped around it. She places it on Hitoka’s head, pressing it down gently so it sits properly.

Her proximity, such a small thing, still sends butterflies fluttering in Hitoka’s stomach.

Kiyoko takes the basket and steps back. “It looks good on you.”

The butterflies flutter even more vigorously. Hitoka briefly wonders if she could have already gotten sunburnt on her cheeks, the weak morning light notwithstanding.

They leave town and Kiyoko leads them into the forest. Hitoka hasn't asked where they're going or what they're doing, but she's starting to get an idea. The trees sway and rustle overhead as they walk past, the birds trilling softly. They pass the tree Hitoka first crashed into and Kiyoko points out the skewed branches as Hitoka hides her face.

The sun is almost fully risen when they emerge from the trees and arrive at Kiyoko's family's flower fields, and the pink light bathes the flowers in a gentle glow. Hitoka’s breath catches in her throat. The fields are an explosion of colour, row upon row of half bloomed bulbs rustling in the breeze. Hitoka recognises lilies, orchids, tulips, at least three different varieties of roses - the sheer size of the field is somewhat dizzying. It seems to hug the horizon, the morning fog smudging the line between the sky and flowers. Hitoka wanders closer, brushing her fingers against the dew-tipped petals and inhaling their fresh scent.

"Welcome to our farm," says Kiyoko, coming up behind her, and it strikes her again how relaxed she looks. "My family has grown flowers here for generations. You could say we're experts in this field." Hitoka can't help but giggle, and Kiyoko looks pleased.

"This is so...this is beautiful. There are so many flowers."

"Not only do we sell the flowers ourselves, but we also supply them to other florists in the city and in other nearby towns." Kiyoko runs a hand over a tulip bud, brushing away some dew. "Your pest-repellent has done wonders. My parents say that you've saved their backs. But there are still weeds to take care of, so that's why we're here today. Don't worry," she adds, seeing Hitoka's wide eyes. "We're not doing the whole field. Just follow my lead."

\---

They spend the morning hard at work, the sun climbing steadily in the sky as sweat drips down the back of Hitoka's neck. She follows Kiyoko's cues and yanks out the weeds among the flowers, burying her gloved fingers into the soil and digging out the roots. Even though her legs are starting to ache from the continual crouching, there's a strong sense of satisfaction when she sits back and admires her work. She takes off her gloves to wipe her forehead and leans back, glad for the hat.

Sitting there, fingers digging into the damp, fresh earth and surrounded by colour and life on all sides, Hitoka feels a sense of calm settle over her. The sky is a brilliant blue overhead and she's struck by the memory, more than a month ago now, of taking off into the same blue expanse and waving goodbye to her family. Just like that day, she feels the swell of endless possibilities. Unlike that day, it feels less like a distant dream, and more like something within reach. Her business still needs work, but Hitoka isn't going to shy away anymore. She's come far enough.

\---

They finish their work as the afternoon draws on, and Hitoka is starving by the end of it. Kiyoko leads them into the small house off the field to clean up, where they're greeted by Kiyoko's parents, a reserved but kind couple, getting on in age. They both thank Hitoka sincerely for her pest-repellent and her work, pushing a glass of ice cold water into her hand. Hitoka expects to sit down to a late lunch in that cozy house, but Kiyoko surprises her by pulling out another basket from the pantry and leading her back out to the fields.

They settle in the grass between the lavender and the poppy fields and Kiyoko spreads a blanket out, gesturing for Hitoka to sit, laying out bread, cheese and cold meat between them. They eat in comfortable silence, basking in the work they've both achieved that morning.

Hitoka feels contentment settle in her stomach along with the bread. She's imagining coming out here again, sitting with Kiyoko and admiring the vast expanse of flowers, when Kiyoko speaks up.

"My parents are thinking about closing the shop in town."

Hitoka blinks. "What?"

Kiyoko nods. "The shop isn't doing well enough for us to keep it open. Even though they love the shop... well, we could just keep selling flowers directly to other florists and survive that way, instead of shouldering the costs of maintenance and management at the same time."

Hitoka watches her. "What do you think about that?"

Kiyoko turns to face her. "I’m conflicted," she admits. "Managing the shop is a lot of work, and sales have been dropping. I don't always enjoy it. As it is now, it might not last that long. But," she adds, "it's still important to me. I have an idea to expand the shop. I wanted to hear your opinion."

Hitoka nods vigorously. "Of course!"

"I'm thinking about making it more than a flower shop. I think - there's so much more we can do to get people interested in buying flowers. There's so much more to flowers than selling posies. I want to design arrangements for other shops, for events, help design gardens." Her eyes gleam, and the afternoon sun catches her hair so that she glows in the light. "I want to get creative and find out what I can do to keep my parents’ dreams alive."

"Yes," Hitoka breathes. "Definitely. I think," Hitoka pauses and thinks back to the words Kiyoko had said to her not all that long ago. "I think you could succeed in whatever you put your mind to."

A smile flickers across Kiyoko's face. "I’m a little scared. I've been wrestling with it for a while. My parents think the risk is too high, and I agreed with them for a while, but I have to admit, there was something that changed my mind recently." She reaches forward, tentatively, and takes Hitoka's hand in her own.

Hitoka's heart catches in her throat.

“I’ve always admired you,” Kiyoko tells her with a small smile. It's an effort to hear her next words over the thumping in her ears. “Since I first saw you stuck in that tree. You were the most exciting thing I’d ever seen.”

"M-me?" she squeaks.

"Yes, you. You were going out to find your place in the world. You're brave, braver than I've ever been in my life." Her hand is cool over Hitoka's. "Going out on your own, coming to a town full of strangers, and now starting a successful business. You’re incredible."

"I'm really not though. I was so scared - I'm _still_ scared, all the time," Hitoka protests. "If it weren't for you and Saeko-san helping me, I don't know what I would have done."

"I think, even without our help, you would still have got here," Kiyoko tells her. "It might have taken more time, but you strike me as the type of person who yearns for more." She looks over the fields again, and Hitoka looks too, watching the afternoon light play amongst the flowers. "I think I might be that type of person too."

She turns back to face Hitoka, a determined expression on her face. "I'm going to talk to my parents again about the shop. And I'm going to start planning tomorrow. And,” Kiyoko intertwines her fingers with Hitoka’s. “I want to do this together with you.” She looks frazzled all of a second. “Um, that is, if you'd like - well, I really like you, Hitoka-chan.”

Hitoka manages to pick up her jaw and leans forward, clutching their intertwined hands tighter. "I - I really like you too Kiyoko-san! I want to have tea with you everyday and pull out weeds here every other week!" She's grinning so widely that her cheeks hurt, and Kiyoko is looking equally giddy. "And I want to help you too, just as much as you've helped me and more."

"Thank you Hitoka-chan," says Kiyoko, her eyes gleaming.

"I don't know how brave I was in the beginning, but I think I am braver now. Thanks to you, and Saeko-san, and Hinata and Kenma too," Hitoka says. "I sort of feel like I can do anything."

"That’s funny. I feel the same too," Kiyoko says, and she laughs.

 

 

 

 

 

\---

The door bell chimes. Hitoka looks up from her table, the stem of an orchid dangling from her mouth while she's putting together a charm for non-sticky floors, and waves at the customer. He's not one of hers though, so she pulls out the orchid and calls out back.

"Kiyoko! Sugawara-san is here to talk about the wedding!"

There's some shuffling before Kiyoko emerges from the door leading to the greenhouse, pulling off her gloves. “Thank you, Hitoka,” she says. She touches Hitoka's shoulder lightly as she passes, and Hitoka leans into it for a second, before returning to her work.

The quiet murmur of Kiyoko and her customer discussing Kiyoko's next job fills the shop as Hitoka carefully threads her beads. The sunlight drifts in through the windows of their joint shop, illuminating the flower arrangements on display and Hitoka's shelves full of jars of dried plants. With deft movements, she ties the knot delicately and secures the charm.

The next day, Hitoka is going to pack a small bag on her broom, with Kiyoko, and they're going to fly back to Hitoka's village to visit her family. It’ll be Kiyoko’s first flight, and Hitoka’s first visit in a year, and she's going to tell her mother all about the people she's met, the things she’s accomplished, and the new home she's found.

Hitoka hums, deposits the charm into a pouch, and secures the ribbon, content.

**Author's Note:**

> an endless stream of thank yous to lark and kait for betaing, carrie for helping this story get through a block, and everyone who cheered me on on twitter. 
> 
> I'm [@espurrkawa](https://twitter.com/espurrkawa) on twitter so please come by and chat to me!
> 
> happy holidays!


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